"What are you fellows doing here?"
"Looking at the river," replied Mr. Whitford, calmly.
"Well, you'd better find some other place for a view. This is private property, and we don't like trespassers. Get a move on—get out!"
"Are we doing any harm?" asked the agent.
"I didn't say you were. This is our land, and we don't like strangers snooping around. That's all."
"Particularly when you are going to land some goods."
"What do you mean?" gasped the man.
"I guess you know well enough," was Mr. Whitford's reply.
The man suddenly turned, and gave a shrill whistle. Instantly, from the hut, came several men who had been in the motor boat. One or two of them had weapons.
"I guess you'd better go now," said the first man sharply. "You're not in the United States now, you know."
"It's easy to see that, by the politeness of the residents of this section," put in Tom.
"None of your back talk! Get away from here!" cried the man. "If you don't go peaceably"
"Oh, we're going," interposed Mr. Whitford
